lit sh 4 ct pi hy of 4 hi ny aren Radio Elvis ‘thin moments after deciding he would go to the impersonators’ convention in Chicago, Eis stepped ‘off the curb inthe middle ofthe block and rwisted bis ankle "ie el forward on his hands and knees when he eupled to the pavement. People runhed by on the sidewalk behind him. He could see them under his armpit upside down, Not ‘only did they avoid looking at im, they avoided the very fact of him, aif they were sure he was drunk o stoned, or worse, maybe dying, ‘Will he reflected when the pain died down enough that the sharp wave f nausea passed and he could gather the wll to stand up again, he had wanted them to leave him alone. They were.He linge across the street, hip-hopping like a man with a bad wound instead of just bent ankle, until he reached bulling on the far side, agains which he leaned while he took deep breaths and began to regan his equiixium. He already knew he would have to cutoff his mustache; that would just be asking frit. But he wouldnt ave time to let his crew cut grow out. He could sy he did Eis Gi, tanker in Germany, cra 1958, “Ar itytve years old” they'd ask, “At Sty?” “Well, sort of” he'd mumble, He'd dick his ead and augh, and then they'd get it, When ‘hey head him they woulda’ think ie was such dumb idea Heed tll them he was a radio Eis “He leaned against the building for 3 long time, nti he was sure he could walk without limping too mach, But ‘when he started walking, he discovered he could. hardly ‘move, could put only the slightest weight on his ight foot. So instead of going into a store and looking at people buy ‘things, he hailed a tax and headed home When be got out ofthe cab, he could hardly walk ar all "The deve came around and helped him to the door of his busing, “Where's the doorman?” he asked ‘Ain’ got one,” Elvis said. ‘The driver turned his head abruptly and scrutinized Eis’ fice. “Did anyone every tell you "he started to sk, bu Elis ut him of. “All he time,” he sid, “T shoughe when I grew this ms tache, they'd stop it, but they neve” “Aw no,” mai the river, opening the door for Eis, “You don’ lok ike him. But you sure do sound ike him,” The sve spoke with a foreign accent Es did’ recognize Radia Bis “Yeah,” Evi said. “Thats what they sa.” ‘Once inside and up to bis floor, Elis psn was practi call bis kee. “What ascupid thing to do,” he muttered to himself “It just goes to show you. fT just been paying attention, this never would of happened.” his had cleaned up his atin the years since he'd disap peared. He had given up all drugs—including aleobol, ‘which he realized now was the entry drug that was worse than any of them—and had taken to roaming the city on foot, taking i all in, ogling the people who had for years ‘ogled him, Tt wasn't easy at fist. He didn't miss the adulation, ‘exactly, being the center of attention. That dida't bother him, What bothered im, what was hardest ro get wed t0, and what ulkimately plese him the most was being able 10 Took back at people. Befre he could make eye contact only ‘onstage, Nowe could tare a anyone he wanted along 5 he wanted making sre, ofcourse, tha he didn" ancagonize a.eazy ora junkie or jus plain mean one, il he was pre pated he carried pistol with hin a all dines, eve in the summer, a ny 25 caliber automatic in a holster in his eft boot, and he was il crack shot because be practiced 31 Hed weit t00, he had to, He hada bought his feedom st auch goat expense—steaing fom hinwelf just a iFhe were fone of his own entourage to late itll o some weirdo, Within an hour, Elvis called a doctor, His ankle was swollen as hig as 3 grape, and now he coulda’ walk at all Whea he suggested to the doctor's receptionist that the ‘doctor might make a house cal she lasghed. “Who do you think you are” she asked. “The King of England? Doctors don’t make house calle”ba fo, ye He knew that. He bnew that. He hada’e been Elis fora long time now, afterall. He just had one of thoxe lapses that he sometimes had, although he had not had many of them. ‘over the years and certainly hada’t had one i along time. He ought to give thanks the guy didn't make house ells, _iven what was done o him by the doctors he'd had when he was alive Well, he had wanted to change his i, to go back to the ‘way it was in the early day, before that tefl ay in 1954 when he went through the orange door at Sun Studios in ‘Memphis, Tennessee, and made that record, Who woud Ihave thought ie And who would have thought he'd have ied oft, too, although he did prety early. Sil, for the Hest few years, it ‘was wonderful. Fame a the power that came with itwere, 4s the Colonel used, 10 sa, delightful, and absolute fame and power were abvolutely delight Atleast for a while. “They were, a Feast, unt he Ggured out he'd gen his ie away_and, without 4 miracle, wouldn't ever get it back again. The moment he realized that, he knew what he ‘would have todo, kew the terrible price he woul have to pay to getit back agin, He knew he would doit, too, when the time was right He called a cab now, and went slowly and painflly back downstairs, using a waking stick he'd picked up on one of his daylong ramblings around town. He kept the stck—= trooked NYC verion of an Irish shillagh—propped sgsinst the wall inthe coer behind the door. By the time he got bad home again, hours later, he was on crutches and his ight foot was in ‘cast. He'd pulled the mile igs iment, ight under the patella and dhe doctor said he'd bein 2 cat for a month, Ral Evis “Ie just as ifthe ligament were a weed, and it was pulled up out of the ground, with alot ofthe dit hanging off the roots,” the doctor sad, pointing a the iregulanty beneath the ankle bone onthe xray ofhis right foot Wel, lve did't knows maybe i was an omen. The crew cut would catse enough attention, even without the mus tache, even withthe gray colored outwith Grecian Formula, bur scat and crutches? That might be pushing i 00 fi. ‘Once he was back nis partment, his anle was hurting prety bad, and since he wouldn't ict the doctor give him anything for pain, of cour, he poked around looking for somthing to distract him, The best he could come up with was the newspaper, which he had not finshed before going fut that morning’ He'd been reading the paper, infact, when he'd scen the tory about the Elis Presley Imperion stor? Convention in Chicago and thinking about it had dsiven him outside cir than usual “The first EP ImperionatorsInterational Assocation Convention in Chicago," it sai, “willbe held June 8-9. Ie is expected to draw many fans and more than 150 profes sional impersonators ofthe King.” Eis read hat paragraph over agin now Maybe i wast such a great de, air al fo hitn to go. And while he was ‘on the subject, mye twas a losy ide, too, for these peo ple to be making living by looking more o les like he'd looked bakin thoae days. Te was asifthey'd sucked ial out ‘fim, lke dhem body snatchers, and int themselves, made themseves into him, But 150 of them? ‘And, of couric, atthe convention they would all be Ehises of thirty to forey two. As fra he knew fom watching the television and read Jing the papers, there wasn't one of them who did Elvis atMat but fore the yea li ret sh the fio) peo An bat ‘ay of er rt ‘the age he would have been if he'd ket on living, which he ‘nad but which no one knew except the National Enquirer and afew other papers ke that, which nobody believed but juse the peopl, He knew it made show business sense, butt til iitated tim that be had eo Keep aging, curing gay, getting skinny vic self wasn’t so bad—getting wrinkles, when those 150 fake Elvies got to fceze time, at leat fr alte wile, ‘until nature, too, rendered them unt for the racket. The ‘vay ithad been doing to Elvis himself, he elected, his foot throbbing just enough to keep him from sipping into a severe depression “Don't come exying to me,” Elvis std aloud wo these faceles, nameless EPIs “I couldn’ help you if wasted t, which T don't” The big question wa, of course, why wert ‘there Eis Impersonators? re propped his foot up on the coe table, on tap ofa big book of Indian photographs by John Running. Gosh dang, it hac! Sute, he could go t0 the Ehis convention, al sight, che ‘exact age he should be, with a crew cut and 2 cast and ‘crutches and even his mustache i he fl ike i to make him stand out even mor, and they'd be on him ike white on ‘ee, Somebony might even be smart enough to gre it ot ‘Maye thats what he wanted, He did’ think so, bot maybe twas. Well, bed sleep om it, and see what tomorrow would bring, Hee tore the news article from the paper—*Elis Impersonators Hiold Own Convention” —foldd it areflls, sna slipped it int his bllfold before he went down the ball to his blacked-out bedroom. He'd just have to sleep on it. aio Evie So im his dream he was atthe convention in the Palmer House in Chicago, and he bada’t shaved of his mustache ‘even, Everybody looked at him because his foot was in a ‘ast and he was walking on crutches, but nobody gave him 4 second look after the frst one because he obviously wa n't an Blvs; he was obviously just a fan. He might be a manager, but he was probably just fan. He could be one ‘of Eis’ retinue, eventhough only afew of the EPIs had them, and they were smal, But he wasn't an Elvi; anybody could se that He stopped at te bar in the Palmer House and ordered 1 Perier witha ews. The bartender looked at him pretty closely when he ordered, but he really looked him over ‘when he gave hrs his dink ad Elvis sid, “Thank yew.” Su" sald the bartender. “Yeah,” sid Bis, “That's right, man, But I'm a nadio Eis.” He smiled his serious, sincere, sure-enough sale, the one Wayne Neston sole off him the night he thought the was dying, and he said, “You're ee king now.” Right. In his dreams He sailed the smile the Colonel used to cll his greter's smile, Hee was wearing srightleg Levi's, S01, a gray and. white suiped shit, and a double-breasted be blazer with big gold buttons. He had hie left black roper on, one of tote high-topped highway patrol boots that were so easy on his eet. His ight foor was in the cast, of couse. He dda't Ihave big ser buckle om his belt, ether, oF 3 sear aroand his nec, et. Some Flies came into the bar in clown sits. The CEO. (of EP Impersonators International had warned him about that. “Like any busines" he had suid, “there area lo ofbaa oft eo hia be dis clowns running around, We want to help establish the guys Who ae serious performers ofthis creative art form.” “Art forms as,” Elvis sid into his Prser. “Give me a break” “The clowns all ordered champagne and sat around thet table sneering and smiling and looking out from under heavy evel. Elv’s own eyes, unburdened by medication, sues and the bight lights of he biz, were no longer very droopy He looked in fit, almost brght-eyed. ‘AC 10 at, le lef the clowns alone in the bar with ust the bartender to appreciate them and headed down a long hallway toward the meeting room for the Suge Present sion Competition. He wondered why he was doing this ‘Was this bd idea? Tithe cortdoron the way tthe SPC, two Elites pasted im on the right in 3 hurry. They were going so fst they ‘would have pati him even ie hada’ been on crutches “We're going to belts,” one of them ssid to the other L ca’e walk any fstr in these damn pants,” said the other on. Eis marveled. These to EDIs clearly dida’t have dheie ‘minds right. The people hutied to Elvis, Elvis didn’ hurry 10 the people ‘There wat a temporary stage atthe far end of Lake Erie “Meeting Room A, obviously st up just forthe competition. couple dozen Ehiscs were lounging around in the back of the room eating Danish pasties and drinking decanted coffee, One or ro Hises were ofF by shemslis putting, their game faces on. "Eisen dvi the mids and took aseat onthe raat row, only fet fom the font edge ofthe temporary sag. 10 He studied all che performances as caeflly and a atten tively a5 if he were going to have to give out the ribbons when they were through. ‘Since he didn’, however, and since his cast ankle began itching lik crany inthe heat ofthe small room, he gabered his crutches and hued aut as soon as the Lat acart had been sung off the lst sweaty neck into the smal audience, ‘made up mostly of EPIs themselves. Is that how he had looked? He doubsed it, In any case, it was a loaded question because they al looked a different from each other 38 he thought they looked from the old him. Or the young him, whichever ic was. He, of course looked less ike himself than any of them EPIs did, ince they were, forthe mos part, roughly the age the was at che time he disappeared, and be was now a lot ‘older, not 19 mention skinny But that wasn’ it, not the extemal appearance, There wasn’t an Inside Eis look-alike as far 36 Ess could tli there wasnt an TEPI, so 10 speak. The closest one was the ‘only black Elvi—which was certainly fir enough given where Elvis got half his amuse and all bis moves from— ‘whose extemal appearance was—not even counting, the colo diference—the leat similar He, atleast, sounded hike vis, except fora mote resonant timbre than Elvis had ever commanded ‘On the way back down the hall toward the Palmer Howse bar, Hvis pased a man wandering around whom Eis ree ogtized from the television at a syndicated newspaper columnist. Kwa ll Elis could do to Keep from going up td introdecing himecl and thanking him fr all he nie things he'd writen about him over the years. While Elis truly di not understand any of very mock, he supposed aIi ‘he understood a guy like him the best, sine it appeared to be the muse thar deew him In the cab on the way back to the airport, Eis wondered again about the fit of EPI in the would and refleted on ‘what ill meant For some reasoa, probably mostly economic and aso, of «course, by accident of birth, most of the EPIs had been cho- se for their roles as much 3 they had chosen thems, Aside from the black guy he had seen a the competition, there was a Mexican one, £00, hd who lived ia L.A. who ve new meaning to the word “impersonator.” He didn’t Tok like Eis, didn’t sound ke Elis, edn’ even singin English, and yer his dedication to the role seemed deep. There was five year old Bhis, too, a Korean Elis, and a ie Eis. eas someting to see. “Tidn' want to be Elvis anymore, and so I stopped and became whoever I became. But the only thing thar changed ‘vas... wel, was everything. Because when T gave up the bele buckle and the spangles and the gaucho pants, I gave up most ofthe things tar made me Eis, That made me, really, I gues, the fist Elvis Impersonator.” - This thought struck Elvis right berween the eyes. “Well PI be damaed!™ he sid aloud,“ willbe damned!” Sill... still, he was the real Elvis, t00, wast he? Somehow he was, eventhough he had given himself avay And all those EPs they were’ the real ones. Were they? ‘The whole thing was abwurd. He remembered reading ‘once about someone in New York impersonating the Russian President Gorbachev on his fist trip tthe US., taking ia even Donald Trump, which mast have been a rush, and another one, more recently ail in California on Gorty’s second trip here R Rasio Evie That kind of impersonating made better sense to Elvis, because Gorbacher was alive and everybody knew it, and 80 impersonating him meant you had 2 chance for 8 moment ‘or two of geting someone to believe you realy were ome: ‘one you were not—much like he had done when he was Bhi. But these EPIs now, they were impersonating some ‘one that everyone reasonable knew was dead, And that was kindof spooky, because obviously they da’ expect anyone tw believe they really were who they were pretending 0 be So why were they sucessful And how succesfl were they? Maybe they were believable only to those people who Ai’ believe be was dead. So all these guys were making a living by fooling people who were not taken in by the tory that Elis was dead. Reasonable people knew Elvis was dead; finge people weren't convinced. Resistant ro the big host, they tured right around and fell for the litle hose, Was that the deal? Eve's head spun, e-wasallt90 mach for him, I he kept this up, he'd have to fake his death again co ‘scape from this new if Hal "Say" he said tothe cab drive. "You think Elvis is relly dead?” “Hah?” sai the cab diver, “T-aid, ‘Do you think Eis rely is realy dead?” ‘The cab driver dit speak for a while. Then be said, You mea, do T think Elvis Presley is il liv?” “Yeah,” said Eis, not sure a all ha’ what he meant. Sure,” sid the cab driver, "You hear him on the radio very da." Sore. Radio El Bur that was the answer: By that adee re fio ye Mi Ge bu fy it # test, Teddy Roosevelt was stil alive because of those old films of him marching into the camers in the days of the Panama Canal or dressed up in that old-imey bathing suit taking a cold bath ouside in slatted wooden tub, By that test, Bing Crosby was stil alive. his leaned back inthe carseat. He touched the burton ‘on the door and lowered the window so some coo air could blow om hisfic, which had begun to fee feverish. His ankle itched, and when he tuned it wrong, ic hurt bad. He bent to scratch, and his fingers met plaster Listen to thi! the cab deer sid suddenly, turing up the car radi, and Elvis heard his own voice coming back to him erough the sounds of tel, across the lst yeas. He saw himself he as then, young an fll of life and prom fae with all the world before him, and all of tie, 100, 38 ‘only the young have, foever, until suddenly one day the ‘ad leps abruptly into sight, the horizon narrows, and i's He wara rio Evi! In his prime he had been the best EPI of ll because he Td lavented che game. When he was gone, the doors ‘opened fr all the second-tier EPIs to tey out for Number One. The touble was, Eis Prey was so hard to do chat ‘only Elvis Presley himself could really do him. But without him, there cou be only what there was. vis reached down then and sipped his hand into the top of his left oper where he could fel the bute of his ile 25 calter bammerless automatic pistol, made in Waco, Texas He fingered it gently, knowing even athe slept that he wasn't going to be able to get on the plane with it Radio Eris Well he thoughe, better them than me, Better them than Also, he thought, the pun wasnt so bad now that he'd had time to rest awhile 15